


according to youtube statistics

by onceandforall



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: 5+1 Things, Established Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma, Established Relationship, M/M, Minor Akaashi Keiji/Bokuto Koutarou, Minor Kuroo Testurou/Yaku Morisuke, Mixed Media, Post-Canon, Pro Volleyball Player Hinata Shouyou, Twitter, YouTuber Kozume Kenma, kenma is the introvert adopted by a gaggle of extroverts, rich kenma traveling all over the world to visit his friends: the fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-07
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:27:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29253687
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/onceandforall/pseuds/onceandforall
Summary: kodzuken ✔ @kodzukengamesit’s fine if you see me in public and want to say hi. just don’t be a creep about itfive times kodzuken is spotted in weird places by his fans and one time kenma is right where he’s supposed to be
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou/Kozume Kenma
Comments: 24
Kudos: 276





	according to youtube statistics

**Author's Note:**

> what is up guys it's once (andforall) here! ~~i'm so terribly sorry if you got those two streamer references~~
> 
> i'm back again writing more post time skip without having read past the nekoma match <3 please forgive me and enjoy this super self indulgent kenma + friends (with a side helping of kenhina)
> 
> i honestly just love nekoma and they all do super cool shiz with their life and it was great to write them and their friendship :^)
> 
>  **ALSO:** please make sure Show Creator's Style is clicked! this fic has a bit of coding in it (lol), so you can't really read it unless that button is pressed. thanks!!!!! 
> 
> enjoy!
> 
> once

emi  
@pillowhandz

um okay i think i just saw kodzuken?????? im on staff at the nyc fashion week ???/ and he ????? whY IIS HE HERE????? like did we even know he wasn’t in tokyo? doesn’t have a streaming schedule for this week ?? is he streaming from nYC ? hello @kodzukengames i need answers  


4  3  5 

Kuroo has always insisted that Kenma have a suit at the ready. And no, Kuroo didn’t mean a suit that Kenma could order online with rough estimates of his size. 

No, Kuroo meant a _suit suit_. One that he had to go to a tailor shop and get measured and fitted for. Kenma didn’t really see the need behind it. Kenma’s outfits on the best of days were jeans without any distressing and a button up shirt he steamed the wrinkles out of two minutes before putting it on. 

(Two minutes. Because if you put it on any sooner, the fabric is still too hot to touch. Kenma learned this the hard way.) 

“You need one for meetings and such, Mister CEO,” Kuroo had said, watching as the tailor stabbed Kenma with another round of needles. This wasn’t Kenma’s first time being attacked by needles. Being a university student, full-time streamer, and CEO of Bouncing Ball Corp was stressful. And acupuncture poked all the tension out of him, left him relaxed and in a slightly pleasant daze. 

But this kind of needle-poking wasn’t relaxing. 

“I can wear whatever I want to meetings,” Kenma said when the tailor had finally finished whatever measurements needed to be taken. “That’s the point of being a CEO.” 

“That is not the point of being a CEO. A good suit is always something you need to have.” Kuroo grinned, that one snarky grin that took up his entire face and told Kenma he wasn’t going to get out of it. It was the same grin Kuroo had the first time he dragged Kenma out to play volleyball with him the first time. It was the same grin Kuroo had when Nekoma had made it to nationals and Kuroo had said that year was the year they were going to win. 

Kuroo was insufferable, but Kenma had been friends with him long enough to know how to put up with it. 

Now, Kenma is glad for Kuroo’s insisting, even if the suit sits awkwardly on his body. But Kenma feels out of place when he’s in anything other than comfortable pants and a pull-over. So maybe it’s a Kenma thing, and not any fault of the suit. 

Not that it matters, really. He’s in New York City now, where he becomes just one of the many faceless people existing in the din. Despite his rather large online following, there aren’t many people in this city who know Kenma’s face. Or rather Kodzuken’s face. And there probably are even less people at New York Fashion Week who even know of his name. 

It’s nice, blending in. 

Kenma, Kuroo, and Kai wait outside of a restaurant now, somewhere in the East Village. Kenma would much rather be back at the hotel, packing his bag for tomorrow’s mid morning flight back to Japan. But the three of them did come all this way for Lev, after all. 

And Kenma is not going to lie: while he has never gotten the appeal of New York City, he’s excited to see Lev again. 

Kenma is not the best at making friends, but in high school he somehow found himself in the middle of a bunch of extroverts that would never let him go. Lev was the stickiest of them all, hanging onto his every word as if he spoke the truest words in the world and always asking and asking for Kenma to toss for him. And after a time Kenma realized that he actually enjoyed Lev’s presence. 

Lev all but tackles Kenma when they first see each other. Lev is running a bit late, but Kai has already checked in for their reservation so it doesn’t really matter. Lev turns the corner and Kenma hears more than sees the giant kid— Lev will always be the lanky first year who had to be told what blocks to use and where to put his hands. Kenma is sure Kuroo and Kai share the same sentiment. They were in their third year when they first got to know him, after all, so Lev was probably more of a kid to them than he was to Kenma. 

And then Kenma is getting swept up into a soul-crushing hug and lifted off from the ground. 

“Kenma! I knew you were here but you’re here!” Lev says, his words coming out more as an excited, shriek. He lets Kenma go and then does the exact same thing to Kuroo and then to Kai. And then he does the same thing all over again. Kenma feels like a ragdoll getting picked up by an overeager toddler, but he endures with only mild rolling of his eyes. 

“Do you like oysters?” Lev asks once the greetings are over. He’s smiling, big and wide. “This place has really good oysters.” 

Kenma has never had an oyster, but he doesn’t say that because he knows Lev will order a dozen or more oysters just to make sure Kenma gets a chance to try all the different types of them. They make their way inside. The restaurant is a lively place, the lighting low and the customers talkative. 

Kenma has to use google translate on the menu, because while his English is pretty good at this point, he’s pretty sure half of these words aren’t even in English. He ends up ordering something that he hopes is a pasta dish. 

Lev orders a dozen oysters anyway. They aren’t bad. They somehow taste exactly like the sea, but with a little more hot sauce. Kenma ends up eating six of them and Lev orders them another round. 

“I really appreciate everyone for coming all this way just for me,” Lev says, a glass of wine making him more affectionate than he normally is. He’s leaning over into Kenma’s space, not enough to be uncomfortable but enough for Kenma to want to move away. But this restaurant is packed, each table mere centimeters away from each other. And so Kenma has nowhere to go. 

Kenma makes eye contact with Kai, who was the one to make sure Kenma sat next to Lev in the first place. Kai smiles into his wine glass, knowing exactly what he did. Kai did his best work when he allowed others (read: Lev) to take the spotlight. 

But then Lev leans back and sips more of his wine. “Really,” Lev says. “I’ve been doing this modeling thing for a while, but it’s different without Alisa here too, you know? This is my first time doing this fashion week alone.” 

Kuroo laughs. “I mean, you’re the one who got us tickets and everything. Of course we would come. Who doesn’t want to come to New York City for a weekend?” 

Lev hums. “How many times have you been here anyway? This is like my fifth time. It gets prettier every time.” 

Kenma disagrees. New York City isn’t pretty. It’s filth wrapped with a bow of sparkling lights. Kenma is just glad it’s not the summer, because the last time he was here it was during a heat wave and the absolute stench of black garbage bags on the sidewalk waiting to be picked up was horrendous. But it doesn’t matter what season it is because Kenma hates traveling in this city. The taxis are expensive and the subway is always an unclean mess with no reliable schedule. 

Kenma drinks his wine. If he’s going to be here— and if Lev is willing to pay— then Kenma might as well take advantage of it all. 

“My first,” Kai says. Kenma doesn’t know how much he has drank, but even though his face is completely flushed he seems to be holding himself together pretty well. “You don’t get to see a lot of the world when you’re a landscaper.” 

Lev sighs. “Yeah, but you’re the coolest landscaper.” 

Kai laughs. “Whatever you say, Lev.” 

“It’s my third,” Kuroo says. “I think Kenma’s third time too? This is our second time together, though.” 

“My third, yeah,” Kenma agrees. “I haven’t really seen all the tourist-y stuff, though. Just Times Square.” Times Square was a nightmare. Too many people that walked too slow and took too many pictures. 

Lev perks up. His wine glass is empty and his face is flushed red. “You’re still here for another day, right? I will show you _all_ the places. So that way you can go home and tell everyone Lev showed you everything the city has to offer.” 

Kuroo laughs. “Why are you acting like you live here? You’re a tourist too, you know.” 

“Okay, and?” Lev sticks his tongue out at Kuroo and Kuroo sticks his tongue back at Lev. 

“I’ve been here more times than you,” Lev points out. 

“Yeah, once more. That’s not a lot,” Kuroo replies. 

The two of them dissolve into an argument over who knows New York City the best. (Spoiler: neither of them know the city all that well. Lev tries to name all of the subway lines and stops after he counts to seven. Kuroo can’t even name all five boroughs.) 

Both Kenma and Kai settle into their seats. Kenma rolls his eyes. They are both children, always have been. Kenma is so glad he’s not here alone, because he doesn’t know if he would be able to handle all of their antics if he was flying solo. But Kai doesn’t really do much to stop them. He just watches and laughs and makes subtle jabs that keep the argument going. He is support, but not really. Kenma wishes someone like Yaku was here to put a stop to all of it. But it’s just Kenma and Kai, so Kenma sighs and leans back into the seat, and realizes he misses this. 

It’s good, being here with friends even if they are halfway around the world and all are much older and doing things their high school selves would never think of doing. 

Someone once told Kenma that he wouldn’t keep his high school friends. That they would grow apart and all that would be left was nice, fond memories to look back at. They told him the friends he made in college would be the ones he had for life. But Kenma always thought that was stupid. He’s not one to put all the effort into making friends just to not talk to them anymore. 

(Especially when they are the friends Kenma has.) 

So it’s really good here in a restaurant in New York City, being here with friends. 

Kenma drinks his wine and relaxes.

kodzuken✔  
@kodzukengames

replying to  @pillowhandz

i do have a streaming schedule for this week 

10k  9.1k  1.8k 

  


* * *

savvy~  
@applepiluvr

what the FUCK is kodzuken doing on my campus i know twitchcon is this weekend but IRVINE IS AN HOUR AND A HALF AWAY FROM SAN DIEGO???????? @kodzukengames please respond  


3  2  1 

  
  
Kenma doesn’t know how to drive. It was one of those skills that was never really needed, as he always had someone to drive him on the off-chance he wasn’t using public transportation. And then he was in college and then, well, everything else and now Kenma feels too old to even start learning how to drive.

It’s not as if he needs it, anyway. 

Shouyou bounces in his seat as he drives. The first time Shouyou drove him, Kenma was filled with so much nervous energy that Shouyou had to pull over on the side of the road to make sure Kenma’s puke didn’t get all over the dashboard. Kenma learned two things in that experience:

  1. If he concentrates very, very hard, he will not throw up. He is sure this comes with a plethora of circumstantial ties. Shouyou is actually a very good driver. Attentive, cautious, always uses his turn signals. Even if he does move a lot while dancing to a song or talks animatedly with only one hand on the steering wheel, Shouyou knows what he’s doing. 
  2. So even as Shouyou bounces up and down at some American rock music on the radio, Kenma isn’t concerned. If anything, he’s amused. Because Shouyou is shining in the sun, his skin tanned and his hair bright. He’s focused, with his tongue partly out of his mouth. Kenma is sure Shouyou isn’t even aware of that, which makes it all the more amusing. 



“Hey,” Shouyou says, taking one hand off of the steering wheel and settling it onto Kenma’s lap. “What are you laughing at?” 

“I’m not laughing,” Kenma says, laughing. 

Shouyou pouts and if they weren’t driving, Kenma would lean over and kiss him. But they are driving, so Kenma settles for putting his hand on top of Shouyou’s and squeezing it. They don’t get much time together, the two of them. But it’s been more time together since Shouyou signed to play with the Black Jackals. Osaka is much closer to Tokyo than any city in Brazil could ever be. 

But they’re in California now, which is a bit of an odd place to meet up. The two of them weren’t originally supposed to be in California at the same time. It was just one of those things that happened, with Kenma attending TwitchCon in San Diego for the first time and Shouyou scheduled to take a solo trip to California to visit some friends. Their trips only overlapped for two days, but when Kenma had told Shouyou when he was going to California, Shouyou had changed his own itinerary so they could spend the entire time together. 

And so here they are, three days into their fourteen day trip in California. Together. Driving. 

There is so much driving in California. 

It’s practically a straight shot from UCI— a college campus where Shouyou visited a few people whose names didn’t manage to stick into Kenma’s head— back to their hotel in San Diego. But they’re here for both business and sightseeing, so they take the scenic route back. 

Pacific Coast Highway, to be more specific. 

Kenma usually isn’t one for sightseeing, but he will make exceptions every once in a while. And this trip with Shouyou is full of exceptions. Kenma originally was ready to fly in for the convention the night before it started, show up and do all the events he was signed up for, and then fly back the hour it was over. 

But here he is now with Twitchcon days away, watching the waves of the blue Pacific Ocean roar against the cliffside. Their car is so close to the edge that if Kenma looks too hard, he feels as if one wrong blink and he’ll get sucked into the water. 

It’s mesmerizing in the best way possible. 

Shouyou pulls over to a little divot in the freeway that’s made for sightseeing. It’s close to sunset, and Shouyou squeezes the rental car into a parking spot that is so tight that Kenma has to squeeze himself out of the car door in order to get out. 

There are hoards of people close to the edge, holding out onto the metal railing and waiting for the exact moment the sun dips below the horizon. But Shouyou wraps an arm around Kenma’s shoulders and leads them towards the one place where there aren’t many people. 

They still have a beautiful view of the sunset. Kenma never knew sunsets could have this much color mixed in them. The sky is a multitude of hues: all the reds, pinks, and purples imaginable. With the clouds thick and plump, the entire sky looks like carnival cotton candy. Kenma is convinced if he was a bit closer to the clouds, he could bite into one of them and taste spun sugar. 

“Did you have fun today?” Shouyou asks, wrapping a strong arm around Kenma. Over the years, Shouyou has grown. Maybe not much in height (Shouyou is still shorter than him), but in everything else. He’s broader than he ever was, with more muscle. But he’s still the same Shouyou as before. The same smile, the same heart. 

Kenma leans back into Shouyou’s chest and relaxes. “Yeah, I did. How do you know so many people again?” 

“Well, I played against Iwaizumi in high school,” Shouyou says and then he rambles off about his connection to Iwaizumi and why he went to visit. Kenma listens and cares when Shouyou speaks. He always cares about what Shouyou says, but he also tunes him out just a bit as he becomes more comfortable in Shouyou’s arms. 

Life is weird. Kenma had figured that out a long, long time ago when all of a sudden the shy neighbor boy with the unruly black hair became the popular suave one and Kenma was stuck as the shy neighbor boy. But the fact reaffirms itself every couple of years. 

Because life is weird. Life is Kenma being in California with his boyfriend, watching the sun set over the same ocean they have back home. Life is Kenma being invited to an international convention. Because somehow people across the globe watch his videos and like them enough to want to see him in person. 

It’s weird. Kenma’s learned to roll with it by now. 

The sun inches closer and closer to the horizon. The ocean is alive with the flames. 

“You weren’t listening, were you?” Shouyou asks, but there is no malice in his voice, only levity that comes from years of knowing each other so well. 

Kenma turns and buries his face into Shouyou’s chest so he doesn’t have to answer. 

Shouyou laughs. He holds Kenma close. Kenma could fall asleep like this, he thinks. But there are beautiful things to look at instead of sleeping. 

Kenma turns and looks at Shouyou. Shouyou looks back at him, grinning. Kenma is blinded, just for a second, by how striking Shouyou is. And then Kenma kisses him, tasting the sun and the sea and everything else that makes up Shouyou. 

They end up missing the exact moment the sun sets, but neither of them are too upset by it.  


kodzuken✔  
@kodzukengames

replying to  @applepiluvr

i wasn’t the one who drove, so idk really

3k  4.5k  5.1k 

  


* * *

🐱🐱🐱  
@sar_he

Я только что увидела кенму в метро ….. ? @kodzukengames ????  


1  1 

  
  
Yaku laughs as he opens the door to his apartment building. “I haven’t spoken this much Japanese since, like, I was called up to the national team.”

They are greeted with hot, warm air, to which Kenma appreciates. Russia is cold, colder than it has any right to be. Topped with the fact that Kenma runs cold, Kenma has been suffering throughout his entire stay. “So sorry if I sounded a bit rusty. It’s been too long.” 

Kenma doesn’t quite get what Yaku is saying because his Japanese sounds just fine to Kenma. But Kenma also remembers moments when Shouyou first came back to Japan after being in Brazil where he would stare at an object for moments on end and then jump and shout the name of the object out, as if the word had magically appeared in front of him. It was as if his brain had to physically switch into thinking in another language. Kenma knows English, but he’s never lived in a country where the language is not his native language. But Yaku _lives_ in Russia full time, so probably to Yaku, Japanese feels weird now. 

“You sound fine,” Kenma says as they pass through the lobby of Yaku’s apartment. The desk attendant nods at them as they walk towards the elevator. Kenma knows the salary of a pro athlete pays well. He’s around enough of them all the damn time to know that. And he also knows he’s not doing too bad either in the finance department. But Yaku’s apartment is step above anything Kenma has ever seen. 

When he first arrived three days ago, Kenma had tried not to gape at the extravagance of the lobby. The floors were marble and pristine; there was a chandelier hanging from the ceiling that was intricate and dripping in gems; the mirrors in the elevator were so clean and streak-free that Kenma felt as if he was being exposed somehow. 

But Yaku had just rolled his eyes and told him he wasn’t the only person to react like that. He said it a bit smugly, too. In that Yaku way of his where he is trying to show off but not let you know he is showing off. It used to piss Kenma off: he’s much more of the type of person to say what you mean and mean what you say. But Yaku deals in double meanings and side glances and after all of these years, Kenma has accepted it. 

The elevator ride goes fast. In no time, they’re in front of Yaku’s apartment. Yaku pushes his keys into the lock when the apartment door next to him opens. A Russian woman walks out, tall and lean and poised in a way that Kenma knows he would never be able to be. In the time that Kenma has walked around, he’s noticed that Russian people are always incredibly well dressed. It doesn’t matter if it’s well below freezing outside, where the only thing in Kenma’s brain is to figure out how to stay warm. 

No, none of that matters. Everyone will be dressed with their nicest clothes, all wrinkles pressed out, with their hair done in the best possible way and their faces either clean cut or with a good helping of makeup. (Even Yaku looks nicer than Kenma has ever seen him. His hair is pressed back with the slightest bit of gel and while he’s wearing warm athletic wear, it somehow looks fancy on Yaku. It’s probably a really expensive outfit.) This lady is no exception. Kenma is pretty sure the coat she has on is worth more than his entire gaming setup. And that’s not cheap. 

Yaku and the woman exchange pleasantries and Kenma stands awkwardly behind Yaku as the third wheel. Kenma has never studied Russian, so he doesn’t even have the faintest clue at what is being talked about. But he’s almost positive it’s just polite conversation. 

And then they’re in the apartment. Yaku’s place, while still as fancy as the rest of the building, is a bit more personal, more down to earth. Sure, Yaku’s fridge is fancy enough to tell you the amount of water its pouring into your glass, but there’s also a bunch of books scattered about on every surface that are all half read (Kenma notices a few he recommended a few months back.) and there’s a pile of half-folded laundry on the kitchen counter that he started this morning and then never finished. 

Kenma lets himself relax in the warm atmosphere of Yaku’s apartment. 

The day has been busy, maybe a touch too busy. But Yaku was insistent that they _See the sights!_ and so the two of them had been out exploring the city since the mid morning. Kenma is not a vlogger and the sad attempts he has made at vlogging have turned out horribly, but Kuroo thought it was a good idea to at least try. And so Kenma had also been lugging his camera around with him the entire day, recording things he thought looked good. 

Yaku had tried to help him: offered to hold the camera, suggested a certain angle Kenma hadn’t thought of. Most of the footage is probably going to end up in the trash bin of his computer, but now Kuroo can’t get mad at him for not trying. 

“When are you leaving again?” Yaku asks as he makes the two of them a pot of tea. Kenma is sitting on Yaku’s couch in the living room, but Yaku has one of those open floor plans that means the majority of the rooms are really just one big room slightly divided with half-walls. “Is it tomorrow or the next day?” 

Kenma stalls. He doesn’t actually know that information. Yaku doesn’t know this, but Kenma had all but forgotten he had booked this trip until the week before his flight. The only reason he knew of it was because of a Google Calendar notification reminding him about it. It’s a good thing Yaku hadn’t forgotten about it also and so Kenma arrived with no issues at all. 

“I think tomorrow?” Kenma finally says but he already knows Yaku is frowning at him. He took too long in forming a response and now Yaku is upset. Kenma scrunches up his nose as he thinks about the incoming Yaku rant he is about to be on the receiving end of. 

(When was the last time Yaku yelled at him? Kenma wants to think back to high school, but he’s pretty sure the last time happened when Kenma did a twenty-four hour stream and then passed out for the next thirty six hours, completely blocking out any outside noise. Yaku and him were supposed to have a video call. _I thought you had died in your own filth,_ Yaku had yelled, thousands of miles away but also directly in his ear.) 

“How do you not know?” Yaku asks, face pinched together. “Aren’t you the CEO of your company? Aren’t you, like, supposed to be in charge of things?” 

“That’s not what a CEO means,” Kenma replies. All of his friends seem to have different working definitions of what a CEO is, and none of them are ever right. He settles himself on the couch again. He wants to put his feet up onto the couch as well, but he knows Yaku will lose it if he does that. So the temptation quickly fades away and Kenma’s socked feet stay on the ground. “I have secretaries for that.” 

Kenma does not, in fact, have even a single secretary. He has Microsoft Office and Google Alerts on, which is about the same thing. He clicks through his phone until he gets to the email about his flight. Okay, so he wasn’t wrong. He does leave tomorrow. 

Yaku snorts. “Your secretaries seem pretty useless if they don’t even forward you your plane information.” 

“Don’t you have my plane info too? I’m pretty sure I forwarded that to you.” Kenma bites back. It’s enjoyable, this push and pull between them, because there isn’t any bad energy between it. They’re just nagging on each other to nag. “Why don’t you use your two hands and actually look up the information?” 

“Maybe I will. The last thing I want is for you to get stuck with me.” 

“Please, I don’t want to stay any moment longer than I have to.” 

“You’re the one who _asked_ to come.” Yaku rolls his eyes and then he plops down right next to Kenma, even though the couch is huge and they could have easily sat next to each other without actually sitting next to each other. “Stop acting like a brat. You’re older and you might be making a lot of money, _kodzuken,_ but you haven’t changed a bit, have you?” 

Kenma really hasn’t changed. Sure, his hair is a bit longer (Still dyed, though. He’s not sure why he keeps bleaching it, but at this point it feels as if it’s just part of his look.), and he doesn’t play volleyball anymore, but that’s all that has really changed. 

He’s still the same Kenma, who plays too many video games and eats too much cup ramen. Everyone else in the world has changed, off doing big things. And then there’s Kenma. 

“Stop thinking,” Yaku says. He hits Kenma in the arm and either Yaku has gotten stronger or Kenma has gotten weaker, but it hurts. (Probably both. Yaku is an Olympic athlete after all. Kenma has too many friends that are professional athletes with big muscles.) “I’m just fucking with you. Please don’t tell me you don’t actually think you haven’t changed.” 

Kenma shrugs. “I just play video games.” 

“You literally are one of the biggest streamers in Japan,” Yaku deadpans. He stares at Kenma until Kenma becomes uncomfortable under his watch. Yaku’s stares are intense, always have been and probably always will be. Yaku is going to die one day and his stare will still be intense from six feet under. “You’re doing cool shit, too.” He hits Kenma again in his arm in the exact same place, and Kenma already knows he’s going to have to dig some old bruise cream out when he gets home. “Also, you’re rich as fuck so stop sulking.” 

“I’m not sulking.” Kenma is not sulking. He doesn’t _sulk._

Yaku huffs, “You’re ridiculous.” He digs his phone out of his pocket. “Also, you didn’t forward me your travel details. Kuroo did. Your flight leaves tomorrow afternoon.” 

“Kuroo?” Kenma quirks an eyebrow. If Kenma has to listen to Kuroo whine and complain about Yaku one more time, Kenma is going to explode. The two of them have been dancing around each other since high school, but both of them are too chicken shit to do anything about it. It’s annoying, really. “Is that who you’ve been texting all day?” 

Yaku blushes bright red. Yaku can take as much as he dishes out with all sorts of teasing, but when talking about his feelings he clams right up and explodes like an overripe tomato. 

“Soooo,” Kenma drags out because Yaku already knows he’s a little shit, so he might as well play the part. “It’s Kuroo, right?” 

“I’m literally never talking to you about this. It feels sacrilegious.” 

Kenma bursts out laughing. Yaku doesn’t try to be funny, but in doing so he actually is quite funny. Kenma almost doesn’t want Kuroo and Yaku to figure their shit out, if only because of the way it gives Kenma some ammunition over their heads. 

(The other, bigger, part of him is so sick and tired of hearing them pine. If he texts Kai about it, they probably could get them shoved into a closet together for thirty minutes and let them at it.) 

Yaku frowns, but then he starts laughing too. After a minute of them both laughing at nothing and everything, Yaku shoves Kenma. It’s a light touch this time. “You should go to bed. The flight isn’t until the afternoon, but it’s international, so you’ll need to be there early.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Kenma says. He’s been on so many international flights at this point that he could go through the entire thing with his eyes closed. “I’ll probably stay up editing a bit and then I’ll go to sleep.” 

“No.” Yaku shakes his head. “You’re going to sleep.” 

Kenma sighs. Yaku might bite and tease and punch a bit too hard, but that’s just how he cares. Yaku fights his way into caring and at some point, Kenma just let it happen. He’s not going to win this one. “Fine. I’ll edit for half an hour and then I’ll sleep.” 

Yaku narrows his eyes. Just because Kenma knows he’s not going to win doesn’t mean he has to give up. He’s gotten bolder over the years. High school Kenma would have agreed and then snuck his way onto his computer anyway. But now— 

“Okay twenty minutes.” 

“I’m going to murder you, Kozume.” 

(The comment is an old one, but Kenma wouldn’t put it past Yaku to actually do it one of these days.)

Kenma doesn’t end up editing because he falls asleep after two minutes on his computer. When he wakes up there’s a blanket over him that he is sure he didn’t put over himself.

kodzuken✔  
@kodzukengames

replying to  @sar_he

i don’t speak russian :(

2.1k  3.9k  5.3k 

  


* * *

*opera noises*  
@chasing_su

im so sorry but i was just at fukunaga shouhei’s comedy show and he shouted out @kodzukengames ??? LIKE UHHHH???????? how does this dude keep knowing so many random ppl next thing u know the queen of england is gonna say they play among us tgt…  


6  10  25 

  
  
Kenma is glad Tora ditched his bleached hairstyle back in high school. Not that Kenma has anything against bleaching his hair— one look in the mirror would prove that right away— but Kenma had dyed his hair to blend into the crowd. Tora dyed his hair to stick out.

And so now with Tora’s all black hair, Kenma stands a little easier next to him. 

It’s a frigid night and Kenma didn’t bring his jacket. (Both Shouyou and Kuroo had texted him to remind him it was cold out and to bring something to keep himself warm, but he left without a jacket because it wasn’t _that_ cold out when he left.) 

But Kenma is freezing now. And Tora isn’t the type of guy to shrug off his jacket and give it to Kenma. And Kenma isn’t the type of guy to take up Tora’s hypothetical offer anyway. And so Kenma is cold, shivering, and really wanting Fukunaga to come out already so they can get to whatever secondary location they are headed to. 

“Dude,” Tora says. “Take this. If you freeze on my watch, I know a bunch of people who will not be happy with me.” 

Tora gives Kenma a hand warmer. It’s one of those electric kinds that oftentimes get way too hot to touch but also double as a spare battery pack. It’s on the lowest setting and Kenma’s hands are so cold that it almost burns. 

It’s a good burn, though, and Kenma takes the almost overwhelming burn with a mumbled thanks. 

Fukunaga makes his way out after three more minutes. By the time he exits the side of the building, Kenma feels much better. Funny how a bit of warmth will turn your mood around entirely.

“Hey!” Fukunaga greets, his smile wide. “You guys actually came. I wasn’t expecting that.” 

Kenma rolls his eyes. “You literally invited us.” 

“And shouted us out in your intro joke,” Tora adds. 

Fukunaga shrugs. “Yeah, but I didn’t actually think my famous friends would actually come to my little comedy show. I feel famous by association, just by standing next to you both.” 

“I’m cold,” Kenma says, because even though Fukunaga is supposed to be the quiet one out of the three of them, Kenma knows he’s running off of pure adrenaline right now and will keep talking if given the chance. Kenma kinda gets it. After a good stream, there’s a low moment where Kenma feels almost empty. And then (usually) he’s full of so much energy that he doesn’t know what to do with it. It’s in these adrenaline filled moments that he gets most of his editing out of the way. 

“Well, yeah. You didn’t bring a jacket,” Fukunaga points out. “It’s cold as hell out right now. Here, take my scarf.” 

Fukunaga hands Kenma his bright red scarf. Well, he doesn’t exactly hand it to Kenma because Kenma’s hands are buried deep in his pants pockets, holding onto the hand warmer for dear life. Fukunaga wraps the scarf around Kenma’s neck and makes sure it’s secured. When he’s satisfied with his job, Fukunaga gives Kenma a brief nod. 

“Let’s get going then. The restaurant is a few minutes’s walk away.” 

“Wait,” Tora says. He reaches into his jacket and pulls out a wrapped gift. “It’s for you. From us. To congratulate you on your show.” Tora hands it to Fukunaga. 

Tora was the one who brought up the idea of giving Fukunaga a gift for his show. This show wasn’t a special show— it was the third show in his local comedy tour— but it was the first show that both Kenma and Tora were going to attend, so it felt a little special. 

So Kenma pitched in money for the gift and let Tora do everything else. Kenma wasn’t the best with gifts. His initial (and only) thought was flowers, but Fukunaga would probably let them die. Kenma is pretty sure that Akane, Tora’s younger sister, was the one who did all the work, though. If the way it’s perfectly wrapped is anything to go by. 

Fukunaga’s eyes water as soon as he receives the gift. He's a quiet person, but he also lets his emotions flow freely. “You guys didn’t have to.” 

“We didn’t,” Kenma confirms. “But we wanted to. It’s the first show we got to attend.” 

“You’re actually funny,” Tora says with a smirk. “That was a surprise.” 

Fukunaga’s touched expression is wiped clean off his face. “And you’re still rude. Not a surprise.” 

“Tora almost cried at your volleyball joke,” Kenma inputs. Their friendship, from the very beginning, has consisted of two them arguing (now, most of the time, playfully) and the third person either pulling them apart from each other or egging the fight on. Kenma is quiet, but he is also an instigator. “I was going to take a video of it, but he stopped me before I could do it.” 

(Tora had smacked the phone out of Kenma’s hand the second he saw Kenma recording.) 

Fukunaga grins, a wild thing. “Oh did you? Does the super famous volleyball player Yamamoto Taketora actually like my jokes? I thought it would never happen.” 

“Why did you have to say that, dude,” Tora laments. He frowns at Kenma. “He’s not going to let it go for this entire night now.” 

Kenma shrugs. It’s funny to see them bicker. 

Fukunaga sends a kiss in the air to Tora. Tora gags and moves out of the way of the kiss’s path. “You’re wrong, I’m not going to let it go for the entire week.” 

They keep trading barbs as they begin to walk towards the restaurant. Kenma ends up walking in the middle of them. Because he’s still much shorter than both of them, Fukunaga and Tora end up arguing above his head, but Kenma doesn’t really mind. He lets their voices become a nice background hum as they walk and Kenma finds himself strangely at peace. 

He’s used to this, the playful jabs and the warm atmosphere of friendship that’s been through the years and still standing strong. When he started high school, Kenma never actually thought he would keep in contact with the people in his grade once he graduated, both classmates and teammates.

And Kenma was mostly right about the classmates. There are some that he has on social media, too lazy to delete them off of his contacts. But he was incredibly wrong about the teammates. Fukunaga, Tora, and Kenma still use the group chat they started in their first year of high school even if none of them are the best texters. 

(None of them even liked each other much back then, but Tora created it anyway.)

They used it mostly for practice purposes. _Kenma where you are? Is anyone staying for extra practice? Coach wants to talk to us after we wrap up._ Nowadays, it’s mostly for congratulations. _Congrats on winning your game! Congrats on meeting your new subscriber goal! Congrats on your sold out show!_

But it’s nice, the easy and low maintenance friendship the three of them have. They don’t need to constantly be in the loop with what each other are doing in order to be friends. And whenever they do get the chance to hang out— whether or not it’s just two of them or all three of them— they are able to pick up wherever they left off. There is something incredibly pleasant about being able to exist with others without having to explain everything. 

Kenma is really grateful for that. 

They arrive at the restaurant before Kenma is even aware of it. The conversation happening above him has changed topics in the meantime and Kenma isn’t even going to try and act like he was following along. They both know him better than to be offended by something like that. 

But after a moment, the conversation shifts again and Kenma is paying attention now. 

Fukunaga draws his lips together in a line, thinking. And then he says, “You know I’m actually really thankful to you guys for coming out. Like, I’m not joking now. I know you are both super busy, but you made time for me and I really appreciate that.” 

“Of course!” Tora grins, wide and big and Kenma braces himself for the group hug he knows is coming. Tora has always been a hugger. 

Kenma nods. “It’s no big deal. You’re the only two from high school that I actually like, so of course I would come.” 

And then there it is: the group hug. 

Kenma is pressed up against Fukunaga’s side and Tora’s chest. It’s not a comfortable position and if Kenma wasn’t ready for it, it would have been incredibly uncomfortable. But now it’s just something that Kenma has to endure. It’s not really that bad, considering how warm Fukunaga and Tora both are. 

“Kenma, that’s not true. You love us all,” Tora teases and he squeezes them all just a bit tighter. 

Fukunaga leans his cheek on Kenma’s head. “Kenma, I think that was the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me.” 

Kenma groans. “I take it all back. I hate you both.” 

Fukunaga and Tora both laugh. Kenma resigns himself to being squished and is strangely happy about it all. 

In the grand scheme of things, it’s a pretty good way to spend a night.

kodzuken✔  
@kodzukengames

replying to  @chasing_su

did you like the show though. fukunaga thinks he’s pretty funny

3.2k  3.0k  2.2k 

  


* * *

yabba  
@scoobyd0nts

lmao weird crossover im at the olympics jpn vs chile soccer game and i swear to god @kodzukengames just passed by me. why is he always in the weirdest spots? literal cryptid…..  


4  4  4 

  
  
There are too many people here that Kenma knows. Not that it’s a necessarily bad thing, but it’s still weird. Bokuto and Kuroo are sitting at the bar area, Kuroo making drinks that are going to be way too strong for Kenma to handle and chatting to an excited Bokuto. The Miya twins are arguing about something on the couch, but it doesn’t look too serious of a fight. And then Akaashi and Kenma are sitting together at the table, not talking but still keeping each other company.

If Kenma had to rank everyone in the room in the order of likeability, Akaashi would be ranked number one. He would be ranked number two if Shouyou was in the room, but Shouyou is off with Kageyama and Sakusa buying more insanely priced junk food that none of the Olympic level athletes should even be eating in the first place. So for all intents and purposes, Akaashi tops the list. 

Speaking of the Olympics, Kenma isn’t really sure why he’s even here in the first place. Well, scratch that. He’s here because Shouyou had an extra ticket to watch the Japanese National soccer team play against Chile and Kenma had said yes. Soccer wasn’t his thing— even if it’s an Olympic game, soccer is never going to be his thing— but hanging out with Shouyou is his thing. Besides, Shouyou had promised him he wasn’t going to be the only non-volleyball player there. 

(Kenma had texted both Kuroo and Akaashi a moment after Shouyou had said this to confirm this. Akaashi had indeed confirmed that both him and Miya Osamu would be watching the soccer game from the box as well. Kuroo had just sent back a cat gif, which was a confirmation in and of itself.) 

So here Kenma is, twiddling with his thumbs and waiting for the game to start. 

“Do you know the rules of soccer?’ Akaashi asks after a moment. His fingers are drumming a pattern onto the table. He’s restless and a little awkward as well. It calms Kenma down somewhat. Akaashi gives off an intense aura of _I know what I’m doing,_ but sometimes it slips and then Akaashi is just another person like Kenma, albeit a bit more calmer. It’s one of the reasons that Kenma has always gotten along with Akaashi so well: his calming demeanor works well with Kenma’s anxious habits. 

“I don’t,” Kenma responds. He thinks he used to know the rules, back when he was ten and being dragged around by a Kuroo who had just hit a massive growth spurt and still wasn’t used to how long his limbs were. But time had taken that knowledge away. “There’s a ball and a net. The highest points win. That’s all I got.” 

Akaashi laughs. His nose scrunches as he does and Kenma might be thoroughly in love with Shouyou, knowing that one day they are going to get married, but he’s not blind. Akaashi is cute when he laughs. He’s pretty sure that every single person in this room has had a crush on Akaashi at some point in time. “I don’t think you’re wrong. But I also don’t think you’re right.” 

“Whatcha two talking about?” 

Bokuto comes to the table, holding three drinks in his hand. Well, he’s really holding two drinks and then balancing the third in between the two drinks, but he makes it work. Kenma had once seen him carry upwards of five drinks at a time (Any party that Kuroo throws will always have two things in common: drinks and Bokuto.), so he’s not that worried about Bokuto spilling anything. 

Bokuto hands Kenma his coke and rum. Kuroo had even put one of those small red straws in it. He takes a sip and yeah, this is just pure rum with enough coke to make it look unassuming. He takes another sip. 

Bokuto slides into the seat next to Akaashi, draping his arm around his shoulder as he does so. Akaashi immediately leans into Bokuto’s chest and if Kenma hadn’t seen this play out so many times before, he would have averted his eyes. He still does, because public displays of affection make him slightly uncomfortable, but it’s more of a reflex than anything else. 

“We were talking about the rules of soccer,” Akaashi says. “Neither Kenma nor I really know how it’s played.” 

“Does it really matter?” Kenma asks. He takes another drink and he can feel himself start to become warm. Not tispy— he’s not that much of a lightweight— but warm and content. “We’re just here to support the Japanese team.” 

Bokuto grins. “Oh, soccer’s easy to follow! It’s like volleyball, but on the ground.” 

Kenma nods. He is pretty sure that is not how it goes, but Bokuto looks so confident in his answer that Kenma wants to let him have it. 

The door to their private box slams open. Shouyou, Kageyama, and a disgruntled Sakusa, tumble in, each carrying various items of food. Kenma isn’t quite sure why they went out to get food since they are in a box and could have just ordered it to the room. But Shouyou had mentioned something about _the experience_ and had that starry-eyed look in his eyes that told Kenma that he wasn’t going to understand it at all. 

And so Kenma had told him to get him two hot dogs with plenty of relish and onions. Shouyou had beamed at the order and now they are back, with all the fanfare that comes with Shouyou and Kageyama being in the same space for more than three minutes at any given time. 

“Food!” Shouyou announces. “We got everyone food!” 

“The lines were kind of long,” Kageyama says. “Sorry it took forever.” 

They are both out of breath and red in the face, which probably means they ran from somewhere. One look at Sakusa’s exasperated face tells Kenma he is not far off the mark. Sakusa might have to deal with the chaos that is Bokuto, Atsumu, and Shouyou on the daily, but there is something about the duo of Kageyama and Shouyou that unlocks something feral. Kenma is too used to it at this point. 

Sakusa and Kenma haven’t talked much, but Kenma has a feeling they could get along well. 

Everyone gets their food and then Shouyou is sliding into the seat next to Kenma and sagging into the chair, exhausted. Bokuto and Akaashi move to the front of the box, where the whole wall is just one huge window. The box is situated behind the Japanese team’s goal post and the window gives them the perfect view of the entire field. The whistle blows and the game starts. 

“Are you supposed to be tiring yourself out like this?” Kenma asks. His hotdog, with the perfect amount of condiments, is in his hand. Shouyou knows him so well. “Don’t you have your first game soon?” 

Kenma might not know many things about playing at the Olympic level, but he was a starter on a National team, so he thinks he knows a few things about sports. And exhausting yourself (and eating stadium junk food) don’t seem like good ideas. But Kenma isn’t one to nag Shouyou. Shouyou knows what he is doing and takes his sport seriously.

It’s still fun to tease, though. 

Shouyou pouts and Kenma can’t help himself. He leans in and kisses Shoyou lightly on the lips once. And then two more times, just because he can. They’re both smiling by the time Kenma pulls himself back. 

“Sakusa said something about wanting to make it back for the start of the game,” Shouyou explains. “And then Kageyama started walking really fast and you know how the rest goes.” 

Kenma laughs. Oh, does he know. 

“Did you have fun while I was gone?” Shouyou asks. If it were up to Kenma, he wouldn’t be here. He is for sure going to be at every single volleyball game because those are important. But soccer isn’t all that interesting. Yet Shouyou had really, really wanted Kenma to come with him and so Kenma came. 

“I talked to Akaashi and Bokuto for a bit,” Kenma says. He takes his drink from off the table and holds it up. “And Kuroo made me a drink, so it hasn’t been bad.” 

Shouyou frowns. “So you’re not having fun.” 

“No, no.” Kenma shakes his head. “I’m having fun. I promise.” Kenma is having fun, even if he isn’t really showing it. The Olympics are an exciting happening and something that Shouyou has been talking about nonstop for over a year.

And Kenma is excited for Shouyou. (Excited for Bokuto and Kageyama too. Excited for Atsumu and Sakusa too, even if he just knows them vaguely. Damn, does Kenma collect Olympic volleyball players like trading cards?) And so even though this might not really be his scene, Kenma is having fun. 

“Super promise?” Shouyou asks. 

“Super promise.” 

Shouyou seems satisfied with his answer. They go back to eating and Shouyou might have had a point when he talked about experiences because the hot dog has no right to be this good. There must be something about the stadium air that makes it a touch more delicious than it should be. Kenma devours it in less than a minute and then goes for the other one. 

Shouyou laughs at him and Kenma laughs at himself too. 

And then the Japanese team scores and the crowd below them goes wild. Kenma can feel the excitement heavy in the air. His ears ring with the noise of the cheers and then the announcers are loud and bubbly across the speakers and the crowd goes wild again, letting streams of confetti and colored paper rolls fly over the goal post and across the field. The official Japanese cheer section in the stands booms with their instruments and their synchronized chants and Kenma feels exhilarated. 

It’s fun, it really is. Even if this usually isn’t his scene.

kodzuken✔  
@kodzukengames

🎉 🇯🇵

JPN Soccer MNT✔  
@JPNMNT

Thanks to @JPNVOLLEY for their support at today's win vs Chile!

190  265  431 

  


* * *

kodzuken✔  
@kodzukengames

hey everyone— just a heads up that i will be taking a two week long break starting tomorrow. reg uploads on the youtube channel, but no streams. seeya on the flip side.  


8.1k  7.6k  6k 

  
  
Kenma is obsessively cleaning his place. It’s not as if he lives in filth— he has _standards,_ okay? But sometimes he chooses sleep over picking up his dirty clothes from the floor or chooses to edit videos instead of taking out the trash.

So Kenma’s place isn’t a total mess. But it is a slight mess, even though he’s already spent the past hour cleaning things. He is already on his second load of laundry, but there is so much to clean. He wants to bring out the vacuum and the mop as well, but he probably should have started on this task a few days ago if he really wanted to deep clean like that. 

Shouyou is coming over today. It will be the first time they see each other in months. Kenma doesn’t mind being in a long-distance relationship. It’s easy for him to navigate communicating solely through his cell phone and his computer. It’s not as easy for Shouyou, though, and Kenma knows that. When Shouyou talked about having a two week break, Kenma told him to stay with him. 

Shouyou had laughed, the kind of small, nice noise he lets out when Kenma does something amusing. “Of course I’ll stay with you. Where else would I rather be?” 

Shouyou is coming over today— and staying— and Kenma is still not done cleaning. He knows that Shouyou doesn’t really mind mess. (Hell, Shouyou has seen the horrible ways Kenma’s room used to get when he was too overworked, too sad, and too tired to do anything more than tuck himself into bed. This is nothing compared to then.)

But Kenma also knows that if he doesn’t clean up now, Shouyou will kiss him silly, hug him so tight that Kenma will feel his entire back pop, and then spend two hours cleaning up for Kenma. And Kenma doesn’t want that. He wants to spend the entire night holding Shouyou and being held by Shouyou, nothing between them anymore. 

And so Kenma ties his hair back (He needs to invest in actual hair ties and stop using those random rubber bands he finds around that rip strands of his hair out) and gets to cleaning. 

Two hours and a lot of sweat later, Kenma sighs and collapses onto his couch. The entire place smells of disinfectant and it’s finally, finally clean. Kenma lets himself take in a couple of big breaths before making himself get up and go to the bedroom. The last thing that needs to be done is the bed. The sheets and the comforter are clean and warm, but they’re just on top of the bed and not actually on the bed. 

It takes Kenma less than two minutes to finish the bed and then he’s done. He climbs onto the freshly made bed and doesn’t mean to fall asleep. He means to lay there for a few minutes and then look at takeout menus because cooking is something too difficult to even think about at the moment. 

But the bed is warm and clean and Kenma has never cleaned so much in one go. Both his body and brain are tired and Kenma accidentally falls asleep. 

(It’s no wonder he falls asleep. He spent the last few days running himself ragged as he tried to pre-record a bunch of videos so his Youtube feed isn’t completely dead. The curse of being a content creator is, at the end of the day, creating content.) 

Kenma doesn’t know how long he sleeps for. The only thing he knows is that he wakes up when he hears his front door open noisily. The lock is a bitch and Kenma has put in request after request to his apartment’s landlord to somehow fix it, but they keep saying it’s fine. (It’s not fine. Kenma sometimes has to slam his shoulder into the door to get it open.) 

And so the door doesn’t open as much as it is forced open. There is only one person that would use their own set of keys at this moment. 

The sleepiness slides off of him almost as quickly as Kenma slides off of his bed. He’s at the front door immediately, arms wrapping around Shouyou before Shouyou even has a chance to put his bags down. 

“Kenma,” Shouyou says, more of a puff of air than an actual word. “Kenma, Kenma, Kenma.” Shouyou somehow manages to drop his bag and then he’s lifting Kenma up into the air, spinning them both slightly. 

Kenma lets himself be carried. It’s been far, far too long since they’ve seen each other. Kenma had almost forgotten what Shouyou smelled like it’s been so long. All of the clothes that Shouyou left at Kenma’s place had lost their scent many, many cycles of laundry ago. 

“Kenma,” Shouyou says again. He presses his lips to Kenma’s neck and Kenma has no words for all the emotions he’s feeling. Kenma’s life is busy— honestly too busy at times— so he didn’t really have a chance to realize how much he misses Shouyou until now. Now, when work doesn’t matter and Shouyou is in front of him again. 

Now, where Kenma is home with nowhere else to be. 

Kenma is going to start crying if he doesn’t get a grip. He wiggles so Shouyou lets him down and then he kisses Shouyou silly. Kenma doesn’t need words when they kiss, which is good because Kenma has no words for everything that he’s feeling at this moment. All he knows and all he cares about is Shouyou in front of him. Shouyou being here. Shouyou going to continue to be here. 

Kenma is a total sap, deep now. 

They make their way to the couch, kissing all the while. Kenma is so grateful for cleaning because usually his couch is the home of all the miscellaneous things he doesn't want to put away. 

But Shouyou leads him to the couch slowly and they kiss until Kenma is out of breath. And then Shouyou rests gently on top of him, doing that thing that requires more core strength than Kenma has ever had, to make it so that most of Shouyou’s weight isn’t even on Kenma. 

“We can do this every day,” Shouyou says into Kenma’s ear. He laughs. “Literally every day.” 

Kenma’s arms are wrapped around Shouyou’s waist. “We better.” 

Shouyou rests his head on Kenma’s chest. This is Kenma’s favorite position, Shouyou resting on top of him and Kenma melting into the couch. “You know, I think my break is actually going to be three weeks, not two.” 

“Really?” Kenma had already been excited about the two weeks of doing absolutely nothing. (Not that Shouyou would be doing nothing. He still exercises on the daily, because that’s just what he does.) But three weeks? When was the last time they were able to be together and uninterrupted for three entire weeks? 

“Yeah,” Shouyou confirms. “The first week back at practice is all optional. And I think I would just rather be here with you.” 

Kenma squeezes Shouyou as tight as he can. Shouyou wheezes with the movement, but then he’s turning his face to look at Kenma and his smile is blinding. 

“I love you,” Kenma says. 

Kenma’s life is constantly filled with happenings— doing this, going there, talking with them about this one thing. And even though Kenma travels around the world, both for friends and for his company and enjoys it, his favorite place to be is right here with Shouyou. 

(And Kenma knows that even though Shouyou is busy with his life as a professional athlete and everything that comes with it, Shouyou’s favorite place is also right here with Kenma.)

“I love you more,” Shouyou says and then he’s kissing Kenma again, almost with too much force. But Kenma kisses him back just as strongly. In Shouyou’s arm, kissing him and kissing him and kissing him, this is right where Kenma wants to be.

This is where Kenma is supposed to be, together with Shouyou in their home and with time working in their favor. With the outside world miles away. With no work, no stress, no responsibilities. Just the two of them able to enjoy each other’s company. 

This where Kenma is meant to be. And Kenma really wouldn’t have it any other way.  


kodzuken✔  
@kodzukengames

actually, it’s three weeks. sorry. go touch some grass or smth. seeya soon. 

20k  11.1k  17k 

  


**Author's Note:**

> the russian translates into: 'i just saw kenma on the subway...?'. thanks to a dear friend for the translation ^^. 
> 
> thanks for reading :^) you can find my behind the scenes post on this fic on my [dreamwidth](https://onceand-forall.dreamwidth.org/1088.html). or you can find me on [twt](https://twitter.com/JINClTY) and [tumblr](http://onceand-forall.tumblr.com/)!


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